Carpe Diem
by keenbeanz
Summary: He doesn't know who to blame for this total screw up of his life whether it be the fates, his parents, the gods or that man in Walmart who had told him he looked like a dying seal when he cried. Rating will go up. Background Percabeth. main pairing Percy/Hestia.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back. So this is a story idea suggested/requested by one Kingtutgaming who came up with what I think is an awesome story idea, because seriously have missed writing PJatO stories.**

**Just letting you know for like the next few chapters there will be excerpts from the books, I have changed them a bit, but with the request I'm going to have to stick with some of what the books say, this chapter I think will have the most excerpt from The Last Olympian in it, as in most if not half the battle with Kronos in the throne room.**

**This was only supposed to be 500 words now it's over 4,000 =/**

**I in no way own Percy Jackson that right belongs to Rick Riordan**

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When Percy was little he used to dream of great epic adventures, the kind heroes went on, saving the world, getting the girl and even collecting a little recognition. He loved that whole idea and often thought about what his super hero name would be, unfortunately all the good names were taken and so he was left with the decidedly dodgy name of Captain Amazing. Looking back at it he used to always cringe at the name, but when he was a boy he had loved it, had even taken one of his old bed sheets and had tried to write the name on it in permanent marker, before ripping it and tying the sheet around his neck and taking his great leaps and bounds over city buildings which were replaced with an old dirty couch and a broken coffee table. His Louis Lane of course was his favourite teddy bear which had been broken and stitched up more times than he could count on his pudgy little fingers.

When his mother had first seen him in his own little fantasy world she had chuckled and smiled at his antics, promising him that she would make him a nicer and better cape, one with a logo, as long as he cleaned his room. He had smiled a toothy grin and would run off to clean his tiny room as fast as he could. Imagining the socks under his bed were evil robots hell bent on destroying the great city of Bedland, Yeah he wasn't very good at making names, he would pick them up with his great strength and with a grand leap off the edge of his bed he would slam the robots (Dirty Clothes) into the high security prison (The Laundry hamper), before rolling along the floor like they did in the movies (Falling face first onto the carpet). His Teddy would be there to recognise his brave heroics and his mum would rub his sore knee and give him a kiss on the forehead to stop his crying.

At eleven he had thought his childhood dreams were stupid and that him being a hero was an absolute waste of time and energy and instead he should focus on more important things like; 'Why does my life suck?', 'Why did Mum marry Gabe?' and 'What is the point of Maths?' Then he turned twelve and was chased down by a minotaur, A mythical bull/man creature who had a strange obsession with trying to kill children of Poseidon, who knows why, maybe he had been dunked one-two many times by the ocean or the water had drained after his bath a little too quickly, although from the smell of the creature he doubts that it had ever had a bath in its life. That was when his whole mess of a life became even messier and even better all at the same time, yeah it confused him as well, Annabeth would call it an Oxymoron, and Clarisse would probably just call him a moron.

He had met great friends terrifying enemies and had even kissed a few girls, which surprises him still to this day. But of course all those good times seemed to be coming to an end with the threat of Kronos destroying the Olympians and most likely destroying the Western world along with it started to draw nearer and suddenly he started to lose people who he had once called family, many packing up and switching sides and even more losing their lives to fight for their parents who had barely even acknowledged their existence and had snubbed their noses at those of them who they had deemed 'not as worthy to be Olympians.' This had brought more harm than good to their cause. Percy had actually questioned why the minor gods and goddesses had not revolted earlier, Annabeth had hummed and went into what seemed almost like a lecture about how it takes a powerful and charismatic leader to lead a revolution and that really while it was only a matter of time there was also the fact that without Kronos behind them they would never have even made it to the planning stages of a revolution.

Percy had nodded along to the lecture choosing not to interrupt to tell her that he was only being rhetorical, he liked how excited and passionate she would get when explaining strategies, he figured let her talk about all this junk because really, how long did they have? They didn't know. For all Percy knew Annabeth would step into battle and immediately be bowled over by a monster and die within the first five minutes. He had done a bit more than shiver at the thought and instead planned most if not all of his time around his friends and family, because he didn't know who would survive the battle, or how many for that fact.

He had taken as many precautions as he could, listening to every one of Annabeth's half siblings, as well as the girl wonder herself, spending hours in their presence understanding different strategies, or at least trying to because every time someone would offer suggestions they would get so lost in the explanation that by the time they had finished they would have spent half the time rambling about the total destruction to the city and what they could do to minimise future destruction by the way of architecture, well that and the fact that there were an awful lot of shiny things in their cabin to look at.

Percy had even tried to corner a few of the Ares campers, just to ask for information or to go against him in a one-on-one, but they had all dismissed him. He didn't blame them for it, even though it ticked him off to some extent, but he figured Clarisse was at least ten times scarier than him on a good day, so he had shrugged them off and instead asked a whole bunch of campers, even attempted archery again, and by attempted he means this time he hit the board once before hitting a dryad and spent the rest of the day hiding out in his cabin.

So really he had a lot of preparation a lot of time, but now as he stood facing the mad titan all he could think of was that stupid dream of being a hero he had, had when he was a little boy. Maybe he should have set his sights and dreams a little lower and asked instead to be a sidekick or maybe even a lawyer. But no, he had no choice in his life. From the day that Poseidon had first laid eyes on Sally Jackson he was doomed for the life of a hero.

He doesn't know who to blame for this total screw up of his life whether it be the fates, his parents, the gods or that man in Walmart who had told him he looked like a dying seal when he cried.

Kronos' continues his maniacal laugh as his foot kicks at the stone at the bottom of Zeus' throne, Percy can hear the rubble fall to the floor before he sees it, and the acoustics in this room are really something he would marvel at if he had noticed it at a later or possibly an earlier date. He briefly wonders if Zeus had chosen the design to carry his voice and appear all the more dramatic than usual, before shaking his head and giving a short glare to Annabeth who is too invested in watching the titan lord/ her (old?) crush.

Sea green eyes caught the diming flame of the dying hearth and Percy immediately felt saddened; 'Where is Hestia?' he thought to himself worriedly, 'And Rachel? Did they get out?' the last thing Percy wanted on his watch was a dead mortal and a vanished Olympian, who just so happened to have the Pandora's Pithos, he didn't want to see that back in Kronos' hands. Annabeth stiffened beside him and from the corner of his eye he saw her too looking over at the hearth, she was biting her lip in what looked like thought.

"My Lord." A new voice called, Percy almost jumped out of his skin before his eyes took in the sight of the turned demigod. Ethan Nakumara stood to the side, far enough out of the way from Kronos' swinging scythe, Percy doesn't really blame him, and if Percy had a choice in this whole battle he would probably be ducking behind one of the thrones.

Kronos/Luke turned then, his golden eyes burning bright as he stared down at the trio that had come to the Olympians defence, he knew it wasn't much to look at but the unimpressed look he was receiving made him all the more angrier than the way he had been dismissed by the titan just minutes before on the streets. Beside him Annabeth makes a pained sound.

"Shall I destroy you first, Jackson?" Kronos asks. "Is that the choice you will make- to fight me and die instead of bowing down? Prophecies never end well, you know." Percy scoffed lightly at that, really the titan lord didn't need to tell him that they had never ended well. History did that all on its own.

Percy looked down at the scythe in mock interest. "Luke would fight with a sword." Shrugging he looked back up at the Titan Lord, his brow raised. "But I suppose you don't have his skill."

A sneer replaces the amused look of the would-be-ruler as his scythe slowly begins to change into the blade that had once and still does cause Percy a lot of grief. There instead of the Titan's weapon of choice stood Backbiter, its half-celestial and half-steel blade stood to proud.

A gasp startles him and for a moment he freaks out thinking that another enemy has joined them, until he recognises Annabeth's blonde curls beside him. He tries to steel his nerves then. "Percy," she insists, her shoulder rubbing against his arm. "The Blade." He hears the unmistakable sound of her knife unsheathing. "_The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap." _

Okay so there go his calm nerves.

That's when Kronos' raises his blade, Annabeth had called something out that could have been; 'Wait.', 'Stop.' Or 'Let's go out for burgers.' But what it was Percy will never know because Kronos' was charging him like a bull.

It was like a whirlwind of pure energy. Where instincts had begun to take over, Percy's heart hammered in his chest with such force that he thought the beating organ was going to burst from his chest in a way reminiscent to all those low budget horror movies he had watched while his mum was asleep. He dodged and slashed for what felt like hours against a singular enemy that felt like an army.

He was beginning to think that mocking Kronos' sword fighting abilities was a bad idea.

The soft music of Grover playing his reed pipes began to play behind the duelling duo, creating all new feelings within the son of Poseidon. Percy was suddenly feeling lighter, stronger and braver and reminded himself to thank Grover for his concert when this was all over. 'If this is ever over.' He thought to himself as Kronos began to back him up against Hephaestus' throne.

Somewhere else in the room, Annabeth and Ethan were fighting. He could tell from the loud clangs of metal striking metal when his blade was nowhere near Kronos.

Kronos slashed a little too close for comfort near his chest, quickly Percy rolled, before leaping up onto the Smith gods throne with a loud grunt from the La-Z-Boy type chair an alarm began to blare as the chair slowly began to hum as secret traps within the throne began to activate, fearing death and possibly decapitation he jumped off the chair with a roll that his younger self had always wished to accomplish.

Electricity crackled in the air, Percy dodged a tendril aimed straight for his little toe. Kronos had not been so lucky with a bolt hitting him directly in the face; Percy would have laughed if he hadn't been so tired from the physical exertion and if he hadn't thought that the Titan deserved it.

Kronos screamed aloud dropping the fear inducing blade onto the marble floor with a loud clang, seeing her chances Annabeth did something that could either be determined as brilliant or absolutely stupid.

Percy would stick with the later.

Kicking the son of Nemesis, in what Percy had hoped was the lower stomach, she raced towards Kronos. "Luke" She screamed. "Listen." Percy could tell that from the way she looked there was a 'Please' hidden in that sentence.

Percy's mouth opened to scream at her to stop and to get out of the way before she did something even more stupid than try to reason with Kronos.

But Kronos was faster and with a flick of his hand Annabeth was hurtling towards her mother's throne, it crack her head made against the throne was loud and ear splitting, wincing slightly Percy watched in horror.

"Annabeth!" He screamed. It burnt his lungs and his eyes began to water as he faced the conflict of running to her aid or continuing his prophesised battle with Kronos.

Ethan Nakumara made his mind up for him as he quickly jumped to his feet standing in-between Percy and Annabeth, he couldn't check on her because then he would have to fight the demigod and turn his back against Kronos, which even for him was a massive no-no and an absolutely stupid idea.

Grover's impromptu concert turned urgent as the rhythm began to pick up in speed, he was closing in on Annabeth, going as fast as he could while still playing the reed pipes. The grass was beginning to grow thicker and faster along the floor of the throne room.

Slowly Kronos rose to his knees, his hair blackened and ashy from the lightning bolt. Percy took great pleasure in the burnt roots a little more than he should have. His once good looks now completely covered with electrical burns, making him look like some kind of freakish Nightmare on Elm street look-a-like. His hand reached out for his sword, only this time the weapon didn't go flying into his hands.

"Nakumara." The injured titan growled. Ethan's eye turned to face his leader. "Time to prove yourself. You know Jackson's secret weakness. Kill him, and you will have rewards beyond measure."

Ethan locked eye(s?) with Percy again, except this time his eyes trailed down towards Percy's midsection, a Mexican standoff erupted between the two as both of them knew. Percy knew he was in a lot of danger right now. More Danger than he would have ever hoped for, Ethan didn't necessarily have to kill him himself all he had to do was call out where he thought/knew where his weakness was and Kronos would make sure to drive his blade into the soft skin.

And without Percy knowing where Luke's weakness was, he knew he would be a goner. Percy needed to rest, Luke not so much. He couldn't defend himself forever.

Ethan's eye looked back up towards Percy. "Look around you Ethan," he said, his voice sounded stronger than he imagined. "The end of the world. Is that the reward you really want?" Ethan bit his lip and Percy knew he only needed a little more convincing. "Do you really want everything destroyed- the good and the bad? Everything?"

Grover was three feet away from Annabeth by now, the grass continued to grow stronger and longer as he played.

"There is no Throne to Nemesis." He mutters, his eyes cast down, his voice sounded broken, as if the boy was seconds away from sobbing. "No throne to my mother." His head rose higher as he stared his adversary down. Percy gulped.

"That's right!" Kronos shouted from where he kneled, his golden eyes looking directly towards Ethan with a cruel smile that seemed off on Luke's face. "Strike them down!" he ordered. "They deserve to suffer!" he whispered harshly. The sound echoed through the room, causing Percy to shiver in fear and anticipation. Ethan stood frozen, he could see the conflict in the boy's eye, it was written all over his face.

"You said you mother is the goddess of balance," Percy reminded him, his eye moved back to my face. "The minor gods deserve better, Ethan, but total destruction isn't balance, Kronos doesn't build." He inched a foot closer towards Ethan, in a show of understanding the boy watched him closely, and the battle on his face was reaching an epic conclusion. "He only destroys."

The battle had ended and with one final shout Ethan charged towards the Titan much to Percy's joy/horror.

Kronos was still stuck on his knees when Ethan's sword hit his neck, which on any normal person would have instantly killed and possibly decapitated them, but the sword merely shattered. Percy doesn't know why he did it, surely he would have known that his 'Achilles heel' wouldn't be anything so obvious as his neck, but Percy never even thought of that, because there was a loud gasp and Ethan was falling back, a glisten on his armour had alerted Percy as to what happened.

His eyes widened as Ethan fell to the floor his body bouncing.

"Treason." Kronos snarled at the boy as he slowly rose to his feet. There pierced through his armour was a shard from his sword. Percy frowned as the grass began to grow around his body, his eyes trailed over the warrior's face slowly, remembering his would-be-ally.

"Deserve better," he coughed, the colour was beginning to drain from his face as he continued to talk, his right hand tapping under the left side of his arm, instead of clutching the wound he had received. "If they just… had thrones-"

The dying boy however was cut off from Kronos' stomp to the ground which had cracked the flooring creating a gaping hole, Percy watched in horror as the demigod's body fell from the throne room and into the open air.

Kronos must have said something, well Percy thinks he may have said something, hopefully nothing important because suddenly when he looked back up at the Titan, he had his sword back and Percy knew he was in for a world of pain.

Slowly they began to circle again, their fighting picking up speed as they continued throughout the throne room; there was a moment where they had begun their battle inside the hearth, the burning embers burning through his shoes. He briefly hoped they were in fact not stepping on the goddess who resides there, because that would not be something she would take kindly too, sure she was the goddess of the hearth and the nicest one he had met so far but that doesn't mean she isn't a goddess and could hurt him if he displeased her.

Kronos had even backed him up against his father's throne threatening to demolish it and use the frame as kindling for his new hearth. Percy had gotten him back by slashing across his chest plate, now the ornate bronze had a riptide sized gash.

With a stamp of his foot time seemed to slow. Percy cursed the titan of time, who could simply stop time to catch a break whereas Percy could only hope to tire him out before he would even think to stop time again. Which to be reasonable and realistic was not going to happen.

He wished Rachel was here to throw another plastic hairbrush at his face.

"It's too late, Percy Jackson." He pointed towards the hearth with a vicious mile that spoke of hours of torment and destruction that lay ahead. "Behold."

Slowly the hearth erupted into what looked like an iris message and Percy was reminded slowly as to what was at stake, and what the Titan was doing to his friends and family.

He saw everything, from people running in terror, Nico and his father working together to defeat the monsters, to his father joining his forces with the rest of the Olympians and defeating the Monster of Monsters. Typhon.

Kronos screamed and slashed through the image with his sword. Percy smiled dangerously at his old mentor.

"They're on their way." Percy's smirk grew with each passing second. "You've lost."

Kronos seemed lost for a moment all thoughts died on his tongue as he tried to come up with something; Percy chuckled at the tongue tied Titan, before suddenly, what must have been an idea bloomed across the titans face.

"I haven't even started."

Then completely as if in a trance the titan dropped his weapon, it fell to the ground where Percy was once again reminded of the acoustics, yeah okay so maybe he had been spending a lot of time with the Athena kids. His hands both raised as he stood perfectly still, his feet stayed locked in their position as his eyes closed. Suddenly his right arm began to move around in a circle, his skin started to glow, it was soft at first unnoticeable if you didn't know it was there, then the glow grew enough for it to put Apollo and even Hyperion to shame.

the glow seemed to erupt from his pores, his body turning into a giant light bulb as a soft hum grew until it was ear splitting, his hands moved to his ears as if to save them from the complete and utter agony he was in, he turned to look to see if Annabeth and Grover were okay, but all he could see was that bright and harsh light which only grew brighter as the sound progressed.

He tried calling for help, or at least to see if everyone was okay, but no one answered. He has never felt more alone than ever before.

"Perseus!" a voice called, a first he thought that maybe, the gods where here and they could see what was happening and rush to his rescue, but he doubted he would be able to hear the gods over this, he also doubted any of them would be able to see him through this light.

His eyes clamped shut, but he could still feel the burning, he screamed again in pure agony. He dropped riptide from its position beside his face, he was sure that sound would have echoed in the throne room as well, if he could only hear it.

"Perseus, you need to relax." The voice spoke again, it was feminine. That he was pretty sure of and also the fact that it was in his head he was absolutely certain of that. Also that the voice was stupid, because this was no time to relax this was time to panic and scream and flail around on the ground like a fish out of water.

"Move towards the light." It tried again, Percy scoffed at that because yes the voice was telling him to move into the light and he is sure that if the voice was good news it would tell him to do the complete opposite, he's supposed to save Olympus after all, not die from some kind of bright light and loud noise.

'What a bad way to die.' He decided.

"Trust me. Perseus." With no other option he slowly began to inch his way towards the light, even with his eyes closed he could tell where the light originated from, all he had to do is turn his head and the direction that it feels like his eyes are burning that was the right way.

If the right way was towards the glowing titan who wanted to kill him, than yes it was the right way.

But as a demigod you had to learn to trust your instincts, and his instincts told him to trust the voice and the voice told him to move towards the murderous titan.

After what felt like hours and hours of endless suffocation to his senses his hand grazed across something solid. "Grab onto it." The voice commanded and suddenly Percy didn't want to hold onto, what was it an arm? No, not an arm it was a chest.

Skin connected with his for an approximate millisecond and he felt his body burst into flame, he screams out loud, or at least he thinks he is screaming. He is burning alive. He is sure of it. His skin is alight with a flame. It has to be, because there is no way on earth he could burn this much without being a flaming Percy.

"You are not burning." The voice soothes in his head. "I promise you." It begins to bug him then because he really should know that voice, except he doesn't.

He goes to step back but instead he comes into contact with a bit of fabric and instinctively his hand grips it tight. The voice in his head hums contentedly with him as he shields his eyes from the worst of the brightness.

"This may hurt." The voice suggests and suddenly Percy feels his stomach clench up. The air around him grows thin and he finds it hard to breath, gasping for air that tastes stale and old. Until finally there is no air, and the brightness and loud hum disappear.

"Don't open your eyes." The voice warns but he has had enough orders from the mysterious voice in his head, so he slowly opens them.

What he sees scares him, frightens him to his core. There on the floor sits Grover holding back a screaming and crying Annabeth, well he thinks she is screaming and crying because she is frozen, in what looks like a rock solid state, he can just make out the glisten in her eyes, her hand reaching out for him.

He continues to look around the room, in the distance he can see the chariots of the gods arriving just outside, and Hermes is the first at the door, looking on horrified. He too is locked on the spot; But Percy can see his eyes moving.

'Why isn't he helping?' He says, before the sudden realisation that he can't. Kronos has stopped time, but maybe it doesn't have the full effect on immortals that it does on mortals. He can freeze their bodies, but not their conscious.

Percy shudders at that, before looking towards the Titan that he is desperately holding onto. Kronos looks at peace, completely calm as to what is happening, a flipped coin as to what he was like just minutes before. Right now he look like Luke, no Titan possessed Luke, but the Luke that had taught him so much in his first year at Camp Half-blood.

The Luke Annabeth used to tell him about.

Those eyes open then and look down at the lonely half-blood gripping to his shirt like a child lost in the shop. He growls, loud.

"I told you to keep them shut." The voice in his head instructs, Percy takes one final look around, spotting the goddess of the hearth dutifully sitting by the hearth, as if completely unaware of the spectacle behind her.

Before he can even question where she was moments ago and when she got there, he feels a sudden pain and pulling sensation in his lower abdomen.

The last thing he sees are a pair of fiery eyes staring knowingly at him.

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**So what did you all think? The Pairing for this story as well is Percy/Hestia because I can't do Percabeth well.**

**Also I'm writing all of the Murky Water stories but won't upload until they are all done, because I like being painful. Also I'm planning a happy Pertamis fic because I can't escape them.**

**REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just want to thank you all for reading this/reviewing/favouriting/following this story means a lot to me. **

**Strayed a lot from the original prompt but it will all end up going in the same direction so never fear. :)**

**I will try and Update this once a week from now on.**

**I own none of these characters. All rights belong to Rick Riordan.**

He is falling, that is all he knows right now.

He is falling and he thinks he is going to die, no scratch that he is certain that he is definitely going to die. He is going to fall and end up like a Percy shaped pancake on the city floor below. Or perhaps his his body will burn out from the fall, like an asteroid the size of an SUV falling through the atmosphere only to end up the size of a golf ball. In that case he may end up the size of a grain of sand if anything at all.

Really his options aren't weighed in his favour right now.

'Maybe Ethan's body will break my fall.' he thinks grimly a sad smile that could easily pass as a terrified grimace, graces his lips.

'Great.' He again, thinks to himself as he feels himself hurtled to the ground, his body shaking either from adrenaline or fear, he doesn't really know and part of him doesn't really care. The other part of course is screaming at him that he should care and that he is an idiot. It's surprising to him how much that voice sounds like Annabeth.

The air around him whips against his body, causing a fair bit of pain as his hair, which honestly isn't long and normally doesn't feel like lead; whips against his face, making him wince and shout out in pain and discomfort. It seems even the curse of Achilles can't protect him from the deadly force of his own hair.

His ears begin to freeze and burn as the pressure causes them to pop loudly and painfully. He doesn't know but he is pretty sure he is crying from the pain and the overall terrifying experience he is unwillingly experiencing.

He blames the voice for all this and is angry and annoyed at not just the creepy and weird voice which has all of a sudden left him high and dry, without so much of a 'Sorry for all the pain I have made you experience, maybe you really shouldn't have held onto the glowing and burning titan. My bad.' But he also blames himself for listening, or even considering listening to that stupid voice. If he could, he would go back in time and punch himself in the face for the thought that a voice inside your head, that was not his own, was even a good idea or even a friend.

Then again when one is a demigod, you tend to realise that anything or anyone who gives you some advice, usually are never on the right side of the law, and that yes. That voice was most likely evil, and if he ever met or heard that voice again he would vow to destroy it.

His stomach churns and cramps as he continues his descent, certain that he is about to die. He feels like he is about to stand in front of the entire camp in nothing but a towel and sing the national anthem of Bulgaria, while doing the Macarena.

It really wouldn't be a pretty sight or sound; neither would his guts splayed on the pavement outside the Empire State Building.

His nerves explode in a cold and frozen wave, creating a cool bead of sweat on the back of his neck that immediately freezes before floating off into the air due to the gravity and the G-force that surrounds and cushions him.

His hand is still clamped to the Titan lord's chiton, tightly and unwavering.

His hand is shaking with a force he wouldn't reckon with, it's almost as if his father has caused another earthquake and his hand is facing the full brunt of the amazing force that the sea god holds within his deck of cards.

The blinding light that had once burned his retinas with a stinging pain and brightness that Percy had almost thought the previously defeated Titan Hyperion had been resurrected just to torture them with his obnoxiously bright self, was now non-existent as Percy was thrown into darkness, a darkness that had him shiver in fear, he had known darkness like this in the underworld.

The darkness was something Percy minutes ago, would have begged for but now that it was here all Percy was reminded off was the Labyrinth when their lights had burnt out.

His skin prickles even more in fear and his breathing begins to grow more haggard as he tries to maintain the composure he had kept before thoughts of dark and claustrophobic places crept into his mind like a spider spreading its poison with every bite and nip at his skin.

The 'poison' had seeped everywhere now infecting what he felt was his very soul as full on panic began to cause his entire body to shake like the earth as the tectonic plates squirm and push together, rumbling the ground and tearing cities apart.

He hears a loud chuckle over the rushing wind.

He doesn't want this he decides as he hears a loud ding in the distance which turns into a rhythmic and methodical 'ding-dong'.

He never asked for this, no one would ever ask for this and if they did Percy would give them to Mrs. O'Leary as a chew toy.

'It's a clock.' He thinks to himself trying to calm his nerves. 'Hickory dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock.'

The sounds speed up until they are almost unrecognizable only to slow down again until he can count to ten between each chime. They do this over and over again as Percy listens to the noise, he should find it calming he knows he should, but his skin seems even colder now, whether it is, because of the darkness, with no light to warm his tanned skin or because of the eeriness of the whole affair.

He has been falling for what feels like hours but could simply be minutes. He doesn't know and Time won't tell him or help him.

'Like Alice. Alice in Wonderland.' He thinks to himself with what he hopes was a deep breath. He remembers watching the movie with Annabeth. She had gone to his apartment a little before the battle and she had brought along some of her Disney DVD's and told him to shut up when he had laughed at her. 'It helps me think.' She says with a frown before slamming her bag on his couch and pulling out a notepad and pen that was filled with unrecognisable scribbles and words written around the margins in Ancient Greek.

'Does that make me Alice?' he thinks, but shakes the thought off quickly because Kronos did not look like a fluffy white bunny.

'Annabeth. What would she do?' a part of him asks aloud, it's the annoying part of his brain that sounds like his said best friend. He knows what she would do though; it doesn't take a genius to figure out what she would do. She would find the safest and easiest way out of this rabbit hole and slap him across the face for not getting her out of this mess sooner.

Then she would probably kiss her or something. If he wasn't so terrified he would blush at the thought.

'Titan lord of time.' The other side reminds him slowly. 'He is the Titan lord of time.' But that is all he can come up with because that queasy feeling in his stomach is growing until he is sure that he must have blown chunks a little while back.

'Rabbit hole.' His mind supplies again. Oh so helpfully. 'Rabbit hole. Lord of Time.' That's all the facts he has right now until he feels something clamp around his wrist in a vice like grip, it doesn't hurt, and if it wasn't for the fact that he can no longer feel the wind around his wrist then he would never have even noticed.

His sea green eyes look around him, finding nothing. Not even a clock to account for all the chiming going on around him; in fact he can't even see his own hands outstretched to the side.

The darkness surrounds him wrapping him in black covering his face, his eyes, everything. For a moment he wonders if his eyes are actually closed and not in fact open but when he tries to open his eyes again that task is impossible because they have to be already open.

Something moves around near his ear, his body jolts in the air as warm air blows into his ear.

"This is where you get off."

'Kronos.' Both sides of his mind scream at him.

Then the grip on his wrist pulls, his hand unclenches around the fabric with a mighty scream and suddenly he isn't falling anymore.

He has fallen.

* * *

Being a demigod is usually all negatives with very little positives, yeah sure having an immortal side of the family was pretty neat. In fact to anyone who didn't have an immortal parent would think the whole thing would be pretty awesome, yet that word never really popped up in a half-blood's mind when asked about their thoughts on a godly parent.

Besides demigods couldn't even really tell anyone just who their missing parent was, he had known people who couldn't even tell their mortal parent that in fact that person they had a fling with years ago was a god/goddess and that their child would most likely die painfully due to their immortal side of the family.

But when you spend most of your life fighting monsters and living each day as if it was your last, which it very well could be if you had hell hounds after you, you start to realise just how bad being a demigod is, which made life all the more depressing and only added to the long list of negatives.

Yet while having an extremely short lifespan, the fates seem to take pity on half-bloods by gifting them with powers and extra things like a little more strength, speed and endurance than the average human. One of those gifts that Percy had been blessed with was, knowing when something was wrong.

And something was very wrong.

He groans loudly as the hustle and bustle of the city streets surround him, cars driving past, people calling out, talking, laughing and even the gentle waft of a good old New York hot dog from a street vendor just across the street from him.

He can hear, smell and feel everything around him.

And everything around him feels way too normal for his own liking.

That is why something is very wrong.

He sits up quickly, his back aches against what feels like wood chips, sticks, twigs, leaves and a juice popper from a small garden, a quick inspection behind him shows that he is correct and those sharp stabbing feelings on his back aren't tiny little needles but are actually twigs and branches that have fallen off the shrubs that surround him.

He just prays that the juice box was empty when it had been discarded in the garden, he really doesn't want to deal with sticky juice stains on the back of his shirt.

"Where in Hades?" he mumbles to himself, his hand immediately goes to check his lower back, it comes away clean with no juice or blood, not a scratch. Nothing. "Well I'm not dead." He mutters to himself a little slower, his mind still trying to figure out exactly what happened and what went wrong.

Nothing comes to mind.

'_Hickory, Dickory Dock.'_

He sits still for a while, his senses tell him there is something wrong, but they aren't screaming at him enough to tell him that it is something life threatening, more like something that could severely injure or perhaps confuse him.

And he really can't be bothered to deal with anything like that, so he simply sits there and waits for his mind to catch up with him. Or for the blood to come back to his head, whichever happens first.

His arm rests against his knees, his armour digging into his chest a little more forcefully; it feels as if Clarisse is sitting on his chest after a cheap and dodgy move that would have half the camp 'Boo' while the other half cheer at her triumph.

It isn't until he hears a high pitched shriek that sounds like someone is in physical pain that he jumps from his sitting position into a quick standing battle position, his legs spread and prepared to pounce, either out of the way or into an upcoming fray, his hand goes straight for his pocket where he is sure riptide is waiting.

'_The mouse ran up the clock.'_

He panics for a moment. Not feeling the familiar cylinder in his denim pocket, until finally his fingers clasp around the familiar shell, his nerves calm down quickly, so quick that he barely even registers the fact that he had been nervous.

The high pitched shriek turns out to be a simple group of children on their way into a building that looks familiar, yet Percy can't really place where he has seen it before.

He stops then.

'_The Clock struck one.'_

The panic returns like a freezing river running through his veins, stopping him dead in his tracks, his mind floods with images of terrified mortals, of creatures that make even his skin crawl in fear and discomfort and the most terrifying being he has ever laid eyes on crossing the continent, determined to destroy the home of the gods.

'_Dong!'_

'Olympus.' Percy's mind screams at him. 'The gods. Annabeth. KRONOS.' It continues until the air seems to leave him as his mind once again tries and fails to think of what happened and where exactly he is, but all he can think off is. 'Gee that uniform looks familiar.'

The feeling in the air returns, tightening against his very soul and body until his armour feels way to tight and he has to unstrap it or risk death by suffocation, he pulls the leather straps loose until he can easily slide the chest plate off his body, it falls to the ground with a loud and hollow clang that has a man look up from his newspaper with an affronted expression. Percy manages a weak smile in apology towards him, only for the man to scoff and shake his head before folding his newspaper and walking away with a slight hobble that would suggest an injury to his right knee.

It is sad just how Percy knows all about injuries and how they can affect you, well he knows they can affect you for a long time however ambrosia and nectar have made him somewhat daft in just how long it could take a regular mortal to be healed the natural way in comparison to their somewhat quick fix.

The shrieks in the distance grow a little louder as Percy slowly pockets riptide before picking up his chest plate. Goosebumps prickle his skin, as he looks back towards the group.

'Why do they look so familiar?' he ponders as his eyes scan the spectacle before him. A group of children, no older than twelve sit surrounding a large ornate water fountain. A group of boys stood around throwing what Percy thought may have been some kind of cracker.

'Lunchable Crackers.' His mind helpfully supplied.

His feet started to move before his mind could fully register what was happening. A large girl with flaming red hair stood surrounded by a group of kids, each slowly edging towards tourists who were too busy snapping pictures and taking in the sights and smells of the city to worry about the delinquent children that were plotting to pick their pockets.

The sky above him rumbles loudly, his feet stop moving suddenly as he looks up towards the sky. The grey clouds look thunderous and huge in appearance, Percy's mind immediately fly to Zeus, King of the gods and Lord of the skies with a dramatic flair that could put even the lazy theatre god, Dionysus to shame, or Mr D, as Percy had come to know him as after the past three, almost four years of camping at Camp half-blood, an area that was built by and for demigods, for their training and protection.

There is a crack of thunder in the distance.

Percy rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Yeah, yeah." He sighs, before once again looking at the group of children around the fountain.

'Why should this look familiar?' At this point he is desperate for Annabeth, or some answers or perhaps both. She would know what this is, because he honestly has no clue.

He scans the group again, as if trying to find some answers.

But finds nothing but an older woman in a leather jacket, that seems way to familiar, another two boys who sit on the steps to the large building they sit in front of, why his brain keeps screaming at him to recognise the boys or the building he has absolutely no idea until finally his eyes rest on a man who sits upright, his body seems both stern yet caring as he sits under an umbrella at what looks like a picnic table.

Why there is a picnic table at the bottom of the handicap ramp, he will never know. It's a stupid place to put a picnic table. How will the handicapped get past the darn thing to even enter the building, there is no point in even having a ramp if you are going to put a table at the base of it.

'Annabeth would be so proud.' He thinks to himself, he tries to smile again. But he finds it difficult under the circumstances.

The man at the table looks up quickly then, as fast as a seasoned warrior. His reflex surprises even Percy who almost leaps back in shock, his nerves are abuzz again.

Maybe he should try and find his way back to camp.

Figure this out there.

'No.' His mind demands. 'Watch.' It says again, it's the side that would get him in trouble from Annabeth; the mind she says is like seaweed. But it's also the side that has kept him alive for the most part of his life, apart from pure luck and skill that is.

'But Home.' His mind screams again.

'No! Wait.' Percy wonders if he is developing a split personality, because honestly at the moment that is the last thing he needs right now.

He takes a step back slowly, until he feels something, a feeling he knows well.

Power swells in his veins, a wave roars in his ears and his eyes avert to the fountain where a large almost humanoid hand has reached out and grabbed the red haired girl who had been secretly harassing tourists' just minutes before. He watches in fascination and horror as she is forcibly pulled into the fountain, kicking and screaming.

He would try and help her but from what he has seen she kind of deserves it.

Percy never really liked those who preyed on the weak, and in his opinion a tourist in a big city, in another country was the equivalent as preying on a child.

'Why is this familiar?' he takes a forward step watching the scene, the way a hunter watches a deer, pointing out every movement the people around them make, the slow part of his brain catches up with him as he immediately begins plotting out escape routes and even attack formations.

Slowly he takes another and another, his mind raving and rambling around. Like a mouse scurrying after a cube of cheese in a maze.

He stops.

Cool dread settles in his gut.

He thinks he is going to be sick, going to throw up everywhere.

"What in the Had- How in Hades?" he questions, his voice raw with confusion and fear, the man in the wheelchair looks towards him suddenly as the older lady rushes towards the fallen girl, checking to see if she is okay.

Only she really isn't an older lady.

She really isn't human at all.

His chest plate drops to the ground, clanging onto the ground for the second time in ten minutes. A few people who walk past him mutter words of annoyance and confusion, not at a boy carrying an ornately carved chest plate of armour that looks twice as heavy as said boy but rather at what they think is a giant wok.

What they think a teenage boy is doing with a giant wok in New York, with no restaurant in sight. Percy will never know.

"Percy pushed me!" he hears the girl shout.

'Nancy.' He remembers. 'Nancy Bobofit.' The girl who had terrorised his last few months of what he called innocence, the few months where he wished he was more carefree and relaxed, instead of constantly looking over his shoulder and checking every corner to see if his class bully was coming for him or his best friend.

His eyes go back to the two boys, one of whom is standing, with his head bowed; he recognises that hair from his own reflection.

He says a few words that are far too strong for an average curse. An old woman glares at him.

His hand reaches for his hair as he feels a dark lock slowly, spreading each individual piece of hair, wondering if the boy across from him will do the same and play with the black hair that they had inherited from their father. Only he doesn't, simply looks down towards his friend, Grover.

The cripple boy has stayed rooted in the spot, the food that Nancy had thrown on him still in his lap. His brown eyes watching the scene unfold around him in what Percy would have thought would be horror and confusion had he never learned of the Greek world around him. Now he knows the look as horror and confirmation.

A worse mix in his opinion.

"Okay." He says lowly. "Okay. I may have hit my head a little harder than I thought."

He knows, however that he hasn't hit his head that hard and that all this that is happening is real.

There is a part of him that is tempted to go and rescue, what would appear to be, his younger self from the fury disguised as a disgruntled math teacher, but he remembers from a movie he had watched with his mother one night after he had returned from camp. 'Nothing good happens with wizards who meddle with time.'

And he had seen enough cartoons as a kid to completely agree with them.

Who knows he could; walk over there slash the monster, kill her and then cause the world to erupt and quite literally become hell on earth, or Hades on earth as he had started to prefer.

He can feel Mr Brunner's, no, Chiron's eyes on him as he stands there completely transfixed by what has just happened, by what he has witnessed.

By his own revelation.

The panic he had felt earlier slowly dissipates until a cool ocean current of calm relaxes him. He takes one heavy breath, his eyes closing slowly, he needs to relax.

His eyes open quickly as he watches his younger self be pulled into the building.

'Metropolitan Museum of Art.' His brain supplied. He scoffs loudly because really where was his brain, not twenty minutes before? That little bit of information might have stopped the slight panic attack he had been building in his chest a little while ago.

He remembers wanting to bring Annabeth here a little before the war, they had, had a showing on architecture and he had made plans to take her. Spent a day scrubbing the bathroom clean just to earn the pocket money from his mother so he could buy tickets.

Except the Andromeda had been spotted near them the day he was going to take her and they had instead spent the day going over tactics and trying to win back the Ares' campers trust.

Either way he got to spend the day with his friend, and if he was going to be honest they were both boring plans anyway.

'I will take her when I get back.' He thinks a soft smile plays across his lips. Sure he might be bored out of his mind but he would be there with her and then he would take her out for dinner, burgers maybe, whatever she wanted. Then he would lean towards her and kiss her the way he had wanted to do for so long.

Percy blushes at the thought; his fingers trace his upper lip as if feeling a phantom kiss.

He looks back towards the centaur with a slight smirk and a nod of his head, the centaur simply graces him with the upturn of his chin that might not have been noticed if Percy wasn't looking for it.

His hand once again grazes along the leather strap of his chest plate as he lifts it with ease, sliding it back onto place. He turns quickly and sharply once he sees Mr Brunner turn his chair around and fly up the ramp as if the magical wheelchair had sprouted wings and flown into the Museum.

The sky seemed to open up as rain started to fall from the sky.

Percy's eyes close again in fear and anxiety.

He badly wants to run into the museum and save himself from the psychological torture he had gone through those past few days of his seemingly innocent life. It was a time where he didn't have to worry about what was out to kill him, he didn't have to worry about saving the world, his family was simply his mother who loved him with all her heart, his best friend wasn't a mythical half goat creature and was simply a disabled kid who would and could eat anything handed to him and he didn't have to worry about his complicated love life courtesy of a certain goddess.

It was like living in blissful harmony.

He only had to worry about not screwing up too badly and getting kicked out of another school and living long enough to graduate seemed like a sure fire thing.

Now not so much, he was surprised he even made it to fourteen.

"Welcome to our personal Tartarus." He manages to choke out as he begins his long and lonely walk back home.

'_Hickory, Dickory Dock.'_

**Not the best thing, but please review and tell me what you think :)**


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